Swan Song
by LivelyStevens
Summary: The team is thrust into investigating a case that opens a lot of old wounds. Lindsay/Danny married, Angell never died...other surprises as it goes along.
1. Chapter 1

_Finally a new story. This whole story has been in the works since early spring. It has been researched, multiple episodes of CSI:NY have been watched over and over again to get try and get things correct. I worked on this for Nanowrimo and I have been waiting to publish this for a long time. I hope that it is enjoyed. I loved writing it and getting into all the characters heads. Happy reading._

Chapter 1

Thomas Larson, homicide detective out of the 41st in the Bronx stood in front of the wall in the conference room and stared at the case board. The coffee he poured not five minutes before steamed in a Styrofoam cup, but it was forgotten. He jiggled the change in his pocket mindlessly. His tired eyes wandered around the board from diagrams of the scene to hand written notes to time lines that had more theories than answers. Eleven photos of the victims stared back at him. Under each face, a list of information about each person got him no closer to answering the question of what happened over those three nights. The information made everyone feel better about the flow in details still coming in and not leaving the case at a complete standstill but it was still all a mystery.

A line of eleven 8x10 color photographs that were pulled from the DMV database represented lives of people who somehow came together under specific circumstances and died under specific circumstances. Those circumstances didn't make sense. Detective Larson stared deep into the eyes of each person hoping that the answers were written in what he saw but got nothing. After a week of investigation they had nothing.

"The whole thing's incredible." He stated agitatedly and talking to nobody in particular. The coffee burned a bit as he took a sip.

Fellow detective, Roger Maine, respectfully replied: "I know, sir."

Larson went on as if Maine hadn't said anything. "Ten people dead on an island and not a living soul on it. It doesn't make sense." He shifted his weight from one foot to another and took another sip of the quickly cooling coffee.

"Incredible or not, it happened." As if to soften the blow of bad news.

"Somebody must have killed them."

"That's the problem we are having, there was no one left alive."

The lead detective turned from the board and pulled his hand from the depths of his pocket to pull at the bridge of his nose. Sleep was not a priority the past week and the few hours he got every so often hadn't done anything to help his ability to think clearly.

"What did the ME have to say about all this? Anything useful?"

"Nothing new sir, of the ten found, two were shot, two poisonings, one overdose, one sharp force trauma to the head, two blunt force; a drowning, and one hung. It wasn't a massacre or a suicide pact or anything."

Larson cringed at the memory of the scene as the causes of deaths were read. "Brutal business." He wanted to get the visions out of his memory and the faster they solved the case the faster he could start something new. He felt like they were so close, one small thing would answer all of the questions they had. "Who financed the weekend? Someone had to foot the bill."

"Victim number eleven, Terrance Davis. And we can't ask him anything because we found him dead also, seems a little too convenient.

"Do we know anything about him?"

"He used to be a drug runner and owned a night club a while back. The NYPD used to hit him up for information from time to time. He was never fully charged with anything because he was so savvy with his money, left no paper trail and his willingness to help out when pushed hard enough."

"And he was the mastermind for this whole weekend on the island?" Larson asked incredulously.

"I don't know if he was the mastermind but he dealt with all the money; everything from the sale, to the building of the house, to the delivery of the food, services, and help. He made it pretty clear to all he talked to that he was doing it for someone else who wanted to remain anonymous."

"And what name did you find in the financial paper trail?" Larson's eyes lit up like it was Christmas and he was hoping he was about to get the break that he had been waiting a week for.

"Nothing." Christmas didn't come and the serious detective slumped. "Davis could move money and bury any transaction. We have some of the best accountants looking over everything he touched and we cannot find a single entry anywhere showing money coming in or out to buy or pay for anything that he did or for the services. He covered his employer's tracks really well."

Larson sighed as he listened; not getting the answers he was looking for.

"It was Davis who made all the arrangements acting on behalf of 'Mr. Owen'. And it was he who explained to the people in the area that there was a reality show being filmed on the island and to ignore any distress signals that they might see or hear from the island. He assured people that there were emergency crews and personnel standing by on a neighboring island about five minutes away." Maine checked a file to make sure the information he was giving was accurate.

"And they bought it? Just shows you how gullible some people can be."

"You know how reality TV is these days. And the fact that a show like that was being filmed here in New York City on a deserted island was just too tempting. No one wanted to go out there and risk the production of the show. But after parents heard about the SOS signals from their boy scouts sons what they saw while they were on the other island on a nature hike, we got a few calls and rushed out there to see what was going on."

"And no one could have swum to shore?"

"Tapes pulled from Riker's show nothing and none of the ships that pass through there saw any kind of small vessel or person swimming, not that I would ever want to be out in that current…and there were a lot of people looking out that direction hoping to get a peek at what was going on."

"What about the record that we found on the record player." Larson went back to the board and looked at the photos of the evidence that was taken away from the island.

"It took a few of the younger detective a few minutes even to identify what it was. After figuring out what it was and how to use it, we listened to its contents and it helped identify the victims. I followed some advice and checked around with the companies that provide props and such to the theaters and found that the recording was supplied by a company who does sound effects. It was sent to U.N. Owen, Esq. c/o Terrance Davis. The company gave me a copy of the order form and script that was sent in. They were under the impression that it was for some play being produced somewhere out of the city." Maine trailed off knowing that it was another dead end. They came to so many of them in the investigation of this case so far. Each piece of evidence only went so far and then stopped.

"And what of the subject matter?"

Maine again looked into the stack of notes that had accumulated over the last seven days and found the photo copy of the script that he made notations on. "I was just getting to that." It was a long list of accusations and he cleared his throat in preparation. "I've investigated the accusations that were made on the recording as thoroughly as I could and they have all turned out to be true."

"And Davis is dead? When did he die?" To Maine it sounded as if he was a lawyer trying to figure something out.

"He died on the 8th, the night before everyone arrived on the island. He took an overdose of sleeping something or other. It was in his system but no prescription bottles were found in the house prescribing what was found. It is currently listed as an unknown cause of death; could have been accident or suicide."

Larson tossed the now empty cup into the wire basket in the corner and folded his arms across his chest in frustration. "The whole thing's fantastic…impossible…unthinkable. Ten people killed on an island in one of the most populated cities of the world and nothing is noticed – and we don't know who did it, or why, or how."

A little timid, Maine got up and approached the board. "We do know some information. Four people kept notes, or journals about what happened and when. Plus those on the island figured that they were being punished for things that happened in their lives that maybe they were punished enough for or even at all. There were ten people to be killed. They were executed, the 'host' accomplished his task and then somehow he flew away."

"Maine, there must be some sort of explanation." Frustration was building in the lead detective's body by the moment.

"We have the journals…"

"But the ME doesn't agree with what they eyewitnesses recorded. The journals say the guests died in one order and then the ME's report says another. On top of that we have three people left after the last journal entry and how did it end. There is no logical order for it to happen and still have the chair end upright against the wall." A firm finger landed on the photo of a white chair against the wall in one of the upstairs bedrooms. "We all think that Ms. Meyer killed herself as the last act on the island, but that chair seems to say someone else was on the island after she was dead or the chair would still be kicked over in the middle of the floor." He paused for a long time. Running over all the different options in his brain again and again to see if there was a flaw in his thinking. "Is there anything else for us to go on? Any connections between the victims?"

"Not that I found so far."

"What about their crimes that were mentioned on the recording?"

"I have cross referenced the hell out of these cases and I have found nothing in the credit card, motives, locations, causes of death, nothing." Again he flipped his notes around as he spoke to check things he was saying. His daddy always told him to have backup; both in the street and on paper.

"Well that at least eliminates…"

Maine interrupted his superior, hoping it wouldn't cause too much trouble. "However I am starting to see a pattern as I look into the original cases. The same names of investigators keep showing up. Not the same one over and over, but the same group of people in different investigative teams out of the crime lab, and then the name Sid Hammerback shows up on almost all of the coroner's reports in these files."

"Looks like I need to place a call into the crime lab in Manhattan and talk to the supervisor there and maybe a call into Mr. Hammerback."

Maine held out a sheet of legal paper with the names of the people from the crime lab that he saw over and over to Larson. The victim's names were also listed, just in case. Larson pulled it from his partner's fingers and walked to his office to make a phone call. He hoped it wouldn't be too late in the evening to call.

**

Stella Bonasera was trying to close up from a busy day. She had to get that file done for the feds so that it could be brought up for trial. A double body dump in a hotel swimming pool was slowing her down and her team was stretched to its limit. Her body barely eased into the chair when the phone rang, Hawkes rushed in and she knocked over a stack of unsolved files on the corner of the desk all at the same time.

Damn the files, it was a routine that Mac started and she couldn't get out of. Those unsolved cases represented promises to specific people. If things got too close to home and she couldn't close a case, the file would sit on the corner of the desk and she would go through them once every other week or so to see if anything new had moved forward. New technologies, stupid people, more information and connecting crimes sometimes came up to help solve things. She would get a huge boost, a pat on the back and a glimmer of hope of things might one day get better for these people.

"Bonasera." She answered, picking up the phone. She motioned for Hawkes to come closer and she tried to multitask by listening to the phone and Hawkes at the same time, but failed. Hawkes was in front of her handing her yet another file for the case she had to summarize and that was the priority. She nodded to him in understanding and he took his leave.

"I'm sorry, this is Detective Bonasera; what can I do for you?" She went to pick up the files on the floor and set them on the corner again.

"Detective, this is Thomas Larson from the 4-1 in the Bronx. I am working a case here that I am stumped on and I need some help from you and some of the investigators you have there."

"I am working on the North Brother Island homicides and I have eleven dead bodies and the only connections they have in regard to each other are ties to your lab and the investigators. I'd like to come down in the morning and talk to some people and see if they can shed any light onto our case and move us forward."

"You want my people to help you with your case exactly how?"

"I think they can help give my partner and me some insight to who the victims were and help shed some light on the case. Maybe make some ends meet that we cannot. Maybe someone has seen one of these people recently."

She furrowed her brow in confusion and asked the first question that came to her mind. "Are you accusing one of my people of something?"

"No ma'am." He had a mama bear on the line defending her cubs and he needed to get out of the cave quickly. "I just need to ask some questions."

"Who do you need to see?" She was still suspicious of the man on the phone and didn't like the way this conversation was going.

Larson moved papers around his desk to find the sheet that Maine had made up for him. He panicked when it was nowhere to be seen among the empty cups, case files and other paper stuffs on his desk, but then turning around in his chair, he found in on another part of his desk. "Alright, I would like to talk to Sheldon Hawkes, Adam Ross, Danny Messer, Lindsay Messer…huh, interesting, they related somehow or just coincidence?"

"Married…go on." She tried to hurry the call along so she could get back to working.

"Stella Bona…wait that's you. Um, I have two NYPD detectives here; Don Flack and Jessica Angell. And then lastly Sid Hammerback."

"Do I need to have an interrogation room ready?"

"No, it will be informal."

"You want them all together or one at a time?"

"All together is fine…is 9 too early?"

Stella looked at the clock and saw that it was already pushing ten. It would be an early and long shift for her tomorrow if she didn't get out of there soon. "That's fine, I will send out a message and get the team here early in the morning." She sent the message as she spoke to the man on the other end of the line. An e-mail alert showed up on his computer showing that she carboned the message to him when she sent it out to the people on the list. "You said there were eleven victims; the news has been reporting ten and there has not been any other details released other than the case is ongoing and more information will come."

"We found another body away from the main scene in an apartment that we have tied to the case."

"Is there any way that I can have the names of the victims so that I can jog my memory tonight about the cases?"

"Yeah, I have that list right here; tell me when you are ready."

She still had the pen in her hand from when he gave her the list of detectives that were needed to meet with him. "Go ahead."

The man's deep voice started reading off names. They were names that she hoped she would never hear again. She wrote name after name as the detective carefully read it out. It was unbelievable that all these people were on that island, it was unthinkable that all these people were not in jail, it was impossible that all these people were dead. The list got longer and longer. Number six, seven, eight… "Wait, could you repeat that last name again?" She was trying to keep up and did not know if she heard things right. But she finished the list with an automatic hand and could hardly believe she wrote what she did.

"Okay, we will see you tomorrow." She stated in a voice barely above a whisper and hung up.

Thomas Larson looked at the phone in his hand with question once the dial tone came back to it. She hung up on him. Her tone changed in the matter of seconds. Confused and hoping that she was distracted, he replaced the handset and went back to the office to box everything up for the next day.

Stella stared at her phone for a long time. Surely he didn't just tell her what she thought she heard. There was no way. If it were true, her life was going change because of listening to a list of names. Her life changed just by picking up the phone. The world did not seem to hold much joy and it was hard to just sit there in the chair. She itched to move. She pushed away from the desk and went to the window. Horizontal blinds covered part of the glass but she pulled the cord and listened to the plastic slats collapse against each other at the wall and opened the view of the city up as wide as it would go, she needed some space, but didn't trust herself to leave the office just yet.

Her palm pressed against the glass and she rested her forehead against the back of her hand. Her eyes closed automatically when the first tears threatened to fall. She wasn't going home that night; she wasn't leaving the office that night. If she had, she would have to explain to the first familiar face why she was going to be breaking down into hysterics very shortly. If she stayed in the office maybe professionalism would help keep the tears away until after this case was closed. Then in the privacy of her own home, in bed and under the comforter she could break down because the name next to number 8 on that list was 'Mac Taylor.'

* * *

_Breath in, breath out. I know what you are thinking...well maybe not, but things will be explained I promise. Let me know what you are thinking. Please. I beg you. I need to know what you think. _


	2. Chapter 2

_I know it takes a while to get into the meat and potatoes of a story and I have put a lot into this. Please read and let me know what you think. _

She wanted to stay in her office, once his office and wait for morning. She wanted to be close to him in the place that ran the way it did because of him and the integrity and respect he had for the position. Nothing changed in the years since he left. He still came around to help out every once in a while, but his body would not let him get out as much anymore.

He started feeling muscle spasms in his leg, the nerve would twitch and a tingling feeling would go on and on for hours. He talked to his physician about it and was diagnosed as multiple sclerosis. He dealt with it like a brave marine and figured that if Danny at the lab for all those months in a wheelchair, then he could too, if it came to that. Then arthritis started to set in and no matter what he took or what exercises he did he started slowing down. He lost the physique that he was used to having and he started to look and move like an old man. Rather than fade away on the job, he retired and consulted with the lab whenever it was needed. The last case he worked on was almost ten months ago.

Stella didn't understand how he could have been on that island; she dropped him off at the airport on four weeks ago Thursday. He was taking a cruise around the Mediterranean Sea. It was going to be his seventh cruise since retirement. It was how he filled his time. He'd come back home with stories and photos and little trinkets for everyone. He'd seen Alaska, the Caribbean, and been through the Panama Canal.

He was gone. Her best friend was gone. Her partner, shoulder, brother, friend was gone. Years of memories rolled past her eyes and the control she had over her emotions vanished. Silent sobs shook her body at the window. Anyone on the other side of the glass wall would have thought she was having a tired moment and taking a pause before getting back to the job.

Quietly she shared the news of his passing with the city that adopted him so she could have someone to be miserable with. Somebody other than just her needed to know what was going so her heart screamed it out to the millions below. Tomorrow would be hard enough to share the news with the team, she needed tonight to mourn on her own in the office that still smelled like him, that still had one of his neck ties hanging on the coat rack, all of his pictures still hung on the wall because to her it would always be his office. The only change she made was to put up another shelf for her favorite things.

She scanned the office and her rest rested on the glass door. Every day since his retirement, she still expected him to walk through the door and tell her about a new case they had. They would go out to a scene and find something "gooey," or she would have to become scary Stella and pull out the AR15 semiautomatic gas powered shoulder fired rifle. A hint of a smile played at her lips before more tears fell down her cheeks. There would be no more memories like that. She turned her back to the lab again. She was afraid to turn around for a tissue and have someone see her. Her memories kept playing like a slide show: dog shows and hotdogs; little Mac Man with a bright red cape around his neck, the dinners they shared, the Greek words he tried to speak and reassured her than things would be fine. It all flowed in and out of focus. Moments that were too precious in her memory to ever let fade. She wanted more, she wanted much more and the chance to create them was gone.

The silence in her sobbing was going and she slipped to the floor, she thought of the sentiment found in the basketball players belongings as they were processed: "In my darkest moment, when all seems lost, you are by my side." That was what Mac was 'always by her side.' He heard her read that card out loud and had a comeback ready "Well I appreciate you too, Stella." She sat against the cool window and stared at the lights that defined a city…a city he risked his life for so many times she lost count. She wanted to hear those words and so many more times from his lips.

Without thinking, she went to the phone and dialed the number that gave her comfort, Mac's number. It was the place she always turned to. It was the place that it always came from. When Frankie attacked her, Mac was there. When her apartment burned, Mac was there. Her hand was still on the handset when the biggest incident came to mind and she let her trembling body fall into the chair before the full memory made her legs go out from beneath her. When she turned in her shield and gun and flew off to Greece, even halfway around the world on a sidewalk in a small village, she turned around and Mac was right there.

When they got back from Greece they flirted and even tried a romantic relationship but found that their friendship was too deep and romance was not something they needed from each other. They just needed that unconditional backup of someone who fully understands where you're coming from and they got that from each other. It was something that helped bond the lab together as a unit; the foundation was firm and it helped build something to trust.

She heard his voice mail pick up and she realized why. She realized the handset quickly as if it had burned her. She took a slow easy walk around the office and she could see him in every corner. She smoothed her fingers down the contours of his face in the pictures she had of him. She ran the silk tie through her fingers and laughed at the thought of Lindsay putting one around his neck to demonstrate a point. His awards and accommodations hung proudly as a statement of what he did for the city and his country. He made her proud to be part of the city, part of the county, and, proud to be a member of the NYPD. He made her be a proud member of the Mac Taylor fan club. He showed great honor and respect for the job that he did every day and she was honored to continue after he left.

She ended her stroll again at the window and eased herself down its length to the floor. With her back to the wall, the side of her body pressed against the window; knees came up against her chest and she poured her mood out onto the world through the glass. Traffic was starting to lighten up a bit, it was well past midnight and she figured a few hours of rest would not hurt. The next day would be draining emotionally and mentally. She should get a few hours…just a few…not too…many. Sleep took her away.

**

She stretched and rolled over only to whack into the glass. When her eyes opened, she saw that there was nothing between her and falling thirty five floors to the street. It was an immediate wake up call. The sky was still mostly dark. A few fingers of sunlight were reaching up to take a hold of the skyline to help the day begin. The horizon became brighter and brighter. Lights started turning off in the buildings around her. Stretching the kinks out of her muscles she stood to face the day and stared out at the landscape before her.

She wanted it to rain. She wanted to sky to darken and rain to pour down from the heavens. She wanted there to be a horrible thunder storm like there had been the weekend before last. It rained and it blew, and the beaches on the Jersey shore and Long Island posted current and strong wave warnings. She wanted the rest of the world to feel the way that she did. And if they were not going to feel that way, then she wanted it to rain to help hide the tears that would fall from her eyes for days. It looked like her wish would not come true. Her fairy godmother must have been on vacation because there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

The full effect of the events from the day before slammed into her body and breathing became difficult. No Mac, no more, no Mac, no more guidance, you're on your own. The staple holding them all together was gone. Things were going to fall apart. There was no hope. It was just a matter of time before the small tight knit group started to spit apart. It was a miracle that hadn't happened yet. It took so much of herself to check and double check on the people in her lives and to make sure that things were okay. The rational side of her started to barge in. Yes, Mac was gone; something happened to him, you have to help find out what. Pull it together; you have a meeting in a few hours.

Leaving the window a mental list was compiled of all the things she should do before the arrival of the detectives from the Bronx. The first thing to mark off her list was a shower and change of clothes, then start the coffee in the room they would use, then go hide until everyone was there and decide on what to say when she told his team, the team he groomed, the sad news.

The shower helped…coffee not so much. The smell reminded her of the numerous cups she shared with her friend. Other than the daily cup, coffee played a role in a lot of their big moments, Flack getting caught in the bomb blast (cream, two sugars), he held two cups in his hands when he arrived at the door of her burned out apartment, and when Mac was relaying information about a case that he was letting get too personal an eyeball fell from the sky and landed in her coffee cup. Mac laughed at the last one as she let a stream of curses flow from her lips in Greek. The smell of coffee would be something that she would always associate with him. It was hard not to, he always had a cup within ten feet of him.

She made herself scarce as the time got closer and closer for the meeting. She didn't want to mingle with her team before the two guests showed. She hid and watched from across the lab through the glass walls when people started arriving. Sid was first to show up, nothing new there. Sid was early to his own birth and he was going to be early to his own funeral. Hawkes and Adam were next to roll in. They were babbling on about a new piece of equipment in the lab. Danny and Flack came in talking about sports and the two girls followed right behind shaking their heads at their men. She observed the relaxed postures and gestures as if she were observing a suspect. It was rare to get everyone one in the same room at the same time. Shifts, investigations, and family obligations usually got in the way of everyone gathering at the same time in the same place and catching up. They had their own distribution list for e-mail that they used to share information with each other. Danny shared a picture of them that Lucy had drawn in art class of the whole group standing in front of an NYPD patrol car just last week. It was a funny picture because none of them really drove one of those. When they asked why she drew it that way she told Danny that there was one out in the street outside her school and she drew it. Because her mom, dad, aunts and uncles were all policemen, she drew them too.

The two guests arrived with hand trucks; each carried at least five file boxes on it if not more. Handshakes happened all around and eyes started searching the lab for her so that the meeting could get started. A last breath filled her lungs before her feet moved the way she wanted them too.

Everyone was conversing about this and that. She didn't want to interrupt. The group of people who had become her family were standing and sitting around the large meeting space talking animatedly. Her shoulder met the casing of the door and she watched. It was extremely rare that these people did not all meet together without it being a time of tragedy. When she sent the message out, she did not know that Mac Taylor was dead. She swallowed the sob that started to build and let her eyes wander the room.

Don and Danny were probably discussing the fate of the Yankees for the year and how it was shaping up for hockey season. It was always that way when those two got together and they were not working on a case, sometimes on a case too. Don would be hit hard by the news. He stuck his neck out on many occasions backing up Mac, the lab, and the science that he brought to the case. It was a tough road to travel with some hard core detectives who went on instinct and gut, but Flack stuck more with the scientists than the gut. He would not trade his job for anything and was glad that it was the job of the CSIs to figure the hard stuff out.

Mac's face was the first one that Flack saw when he came to in the hospital after the bombing that almost killed him. Stella returned with coffee for the two of them and rather than finding her partner on the couch where she left him she saw him in Flack's hospital room holding onto the detective's hand and talking to him. Mac sat by that bed until the other man's eyes opened.

Flack's girlfriend Angell was the newest addition to the tight knit group. Stella laughed at the thought of Angell being new to the group; she was Flack's girlfriend for the last six, almost seven years. She moved in with him shortly after recovering from a gunshot wound she suffered in a diner during the transfer of a man who was testifying. Stella shook her head at the thought of the event. The father of the man she was transferring was on that list of victims along with Mac's. Would it be a relief that he was dead?

Danny and Flack high fived at some comment that was made. Stella focused on the shorter of the pair. Mac was a mentor to Danny both personally and professionally. Without Mac's guidance and Danny's intelligence, Danny would not be second in command at the lab. It was a verbal recommendation to the chief straight from Mac that Danny move up when he moved on. It was an honor and responsibility that Danny took head on. She knew it would crush him, but at least he had his family to support him.

Danny's wife of over five years was sitting at the table and digging through her bag. Sid was talking to her while she looked. She pulled something out of her bag and handed it to Sid to look at. She could see that it was Lucy's latest school picture. For Stella it suddenly became hard to breath. A group of people who would be affected in ways unknown to them came to her mind that she forgot and the realization hit her in the chest like a ton of bricks: the children.

Mac was the godfather of three beautiful children. Lucy might be old enough to remember a fragment of who and what Mac Taylor was, but Artie, Lucy's little brother and Michelle, Adam's little girl were just too young to remember much of anything when it came to Mac. Mac Arthur, Artie for short, was going to be one in a few weeks and Michelle was about 13 months old. He doted on those kids and spoiled them 200% more than any child should be. They wanted for nothing and when in doubt, the children were with Mac. At get-togethers Mac would be crowded by the kids and reading a story of feeding a bottle or even changing a diaper. It was such a shame he didn't have any with his late wife, or even found a love later on in life that would have given him the opportunity because he would have been a great father.

They would never know of his humor, his compassion, his loyalty, his generosity; they would never know 'Uncle Mac' for who he was. They would no longer run or crawl to him and sit in his lap to hear about the stories he had to tell. Lucy loved the stories that Mac had to share. He wouldn't share all the gory stories, just the stories about where he had been and what he saw. His retirement meant that he could go to new places and bring interesting toys back and be that fun uncle that each family had.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder and broke the fogged thoughts she was having. Lindsay showed Stella the same picture she was showing to Sid. She held a hand over her mouth to hide the sob that wanted to escape. She nodded at the photo and handed it back to Lindsay and went to talk to the detectives. At the head of the table she stood quietly and listened to the Bronx detectives talk about the case and where they were having problems. She looked across the room at all the faces. Naturally, each took their seat and focused their attention on her. The two other detectives took a place in the back of the room and let Stella start the meeting. They waited.

Stella worried herself and she fidgeted with her fingers. She shifted from one foot to another, hair was adjusted and shoes examined. The correct words had to be chosen carefully. The tone needed to be just right.

_The next chapter will spell all things out. Please review this one and watch for the next. I need to know how this is going. _

_Those of you reading Different Beginnings, I hope to get it up in the next few days. Its written...just needs to be typed and uploaded. _


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

She stirred for a few more minutes and pushed her personal life aside and hoped that the professional skills would step up. How many times had she told a family that a loved one died? She could now understand how there was nothing she could ever say to make the news easier or the pain go away.

"I have called you all together at the request of Detective Larson and Maine out of the 4-1. They are working the case on North Brother Island and have hit a dead end. It seems that all the victims have ties to this lab. We will hear from them in a few minutes…" The pause she took was uncomfortable for all in the room. Many shifted in their seats wondering if they were the only ones who felt it. "But before they take over, I need to let you know that one of the victims on the island was…Mac. I don't know any of the details of how he died, but we will get into that here today." She couldn't look into the eyes of those in the room. She had to keep the emotion under wraps; she had to keep herself dignified and strong. "Um…I will contact the NYPD and the military later this afternoon and um…" The first tear slid down her cheek and Lindsay was at her side instantly sharing in her misery and supporting her. There wasn't a dry eye in the room other than the two guest detectives who stood in the back of the room looking at each other, confused. "um…I know that this is a huge shock, I know that this is so sudden and that you are all going to need time to process this..." She broke down completely and crumbled into the seat at the table. Everyone was shocked and following Stella's lead on how to deal with this. A few of her friends looked to the back of the room for answers but the two men standing there looked as confused as the rest of them did.

"I don't understand." Larson stepped forward. "What was Mac Taylor to you? And why do you need to contact the NYPD and military?"

Angell was the only one who was able to speak with any clarity. "Mac was our friend, he was what kept us together. He used to work here and before that he was in the Marines."

"Uh, no he wasn't." Larson furrowed his brow and shook his head and went into the boxes to find the files on the victim's to make sure he wasn't wrong.

Anger, pure blind anger took over in Stella's heart. "Don't tell me I don't know what I am talking about. I knew Mac Taylor better than anyone here. He has a very distinguished record with the NYPD and Marines."

"No, he was out on parole for vehicular homicide." The file folder was opened and extended out towards Stella.

She questioned before even looking down at the paper work. "MacKenna Boyd Taylor Jr?" A few eyes went to Stella at the mention of Mac's full name.

"No, MacKinley Taylor, out on parole for the vehicular homicide of Melinda Kitano."

"What?" There was no breath in the room for Stella to pull into her lungs. If it was shocking to hear that Mac was dead, than it was even more of a shock to her system to learn that he was still alive. It was a relief, but still a shock. "Mac, my Mac is still alive." She covered her heart with one hand and her mouth with the other. Her fit of crying turned into a fit of hysterical laughter. "Mac is alive. Mac's not one of the ten that died on that island."

"No, the Mac Taylor who died was not the legendary Mac Taylor, who ran the crime lab a few years ago. I would have delivered that kind of news in person. I am sorry; I never even thought that there would be a mix up." Larson heartfully said trying to help fix any damage.

The last twelve hours of the emotionally draining walk down memory lane was for nothing. The gut wrenching agony and exhaustion falsely inflicted.

Larson stood in front of the group in the most authoritative manner that he could muster. He felt awful about what had happened and needed to do some damage control. "I am sorry again for the mistake. It never dawned on me that there would be a mix up. But I'm here because we need your help. Last Tuesday we received a 911 call from concerned parents of boy scouts. The scouts were on South Brother Island doing a service project and noticed some flashes coming from the other island. When they got home and told their parents about what they saw and the parents called 911. We went out there with Fred Narracott, the ferry pilot who'd been hired to transport people and supplies out to the island. When we arrived we found ten bodies scattered around the island killed in various fashions."

"It wasn't mass suicide?" Hawkes asked.

"No. Wargrave and Redman were shot, the first through the head, the second through the heart. Miss Pierpont and Taylor died of cyanide poisoning. Mrs. Gordon died of an overdose of chloral hydrate. Mr. Gordon's head was split open. Truby's forehead was crushed in. Zimmer died of drowning. Dunbrook's skull was fractured by a blow on the back of the head and Miss. Meyer was hanged."

"What were those names again?" Danny asked. Surely he didn't hear the names correctly because some of the people whose names spilled from the lips of the man currently in charge were responsible for some of the most senseless crimes the lab investigated. There was no way that all these people were on that one island, there was no way that all these people were out of jail, there was no way that all of these people were dead. Danny was having the same thoughts that Stella had the night before.

Detective Larson asked Maine to fish out the summative report just to check the information again and he read the names off one by one slowly. "Linda Gordon, who was Linda Cortez when she was investigated by this lab, Jerry Gordon, Justin Wargrave, Dean Truby, Felix Redman, Staci Meyer, Evelyn Pierpont, Craig Zimmer, Mac Taylor, and Robert Dunbrook."

The blue Bic pen that was in Flack's hand was thrown onto the pad he was taking notes on. "No way, no way in hell all these people are out walking free and able to be invited to some weekend party, reality thing on an exclusive island only to get killed. These people all did stuff that they should be in jail for."

"Not all of these people were charged for anything by this lab." Stella added.

"Really, who?" Maine stepped in to show interest in what the lady had to say.

"Craig Zimmer, I can't think of anything that he would be guilty of. I don't even remember the name."

"Mac and I worked a case in his building where a woman was found in the water tower." Lindsay told the table. There were a lot more details but she didn't need to share them right now.

"Evie Pierpont was never charged with anything." Sheldon inserted.

"There was no evidence, but we were convinced that she had something to do with manipulating people's lives and at least two people ended up dead." Stella finished.

"Who the hell is Justin Wargrave? The name sounds familiar but I don't know from where." Danny questioned. He looked down at this notes and noticed that as he or someone else mentioned a detail about a case he jotted them down, but there were no noted next to Wargrave's name.

"He was the only victim not investigated here. He lived upstate and was accused of sending an innocent man to jail. The man was attacked less than a month after getting there and died. Appeals were still going through about evidence clearing his name. Turned out he was guilty after all."

The table was shocked into disbelief. Each of the people named touched the people at the table in one way or another and it didn't turn out well. "So you're telling me all these people are dead."

"uh, yeah."

"Why are you here, whoever did this did the world a favor and did it quite neatly." Danny added.

"Even if that is the case, we need some help with the investigation. We've hit a wall because of two sticky points. The first is that the coroner's timeline of deaths does not match the eye witnesses stories."

"There were no eye witnesses. You said everyone was dead when you got there." Lindsay pointed out.

"We have journals that were kept by the guests and it gave one version of the story, and then the coroner comes in and says that the bodies tell another. The second sticky point deals with the death timeline, If Miss. Meyers was the last one to die like we suspect, then there is a ghost on the island."

"You're telling us a ghost led to their deaths?"

"No, but it would help tie everything together. You see, the chair she used to stand on was not knocked over under her body like one would expect. The chair was sitting upright all the way across the room against the wall between the side table and the door way. No one could have slid the chair there while trying to hang themselves. I've had detectives try and slide it there from a standing position and it never came out perfectly in the right spot. To us, that means that she was not the last one to die. But there was no one else on the island and that just makes everything screwed up."

"So what are you asking us to do?" Stella questioned finally in a professional state of mind.

"We need you to run through the case with us and see what we might have missed. You know the kind of people that the victims were."

"Show us what you have so far." Danny requested.

The man heaved one of the boxes to the table and flipped the lid off. He pulled out little figures, a revolver, and pictures of a house, victims and whole slew of other things. He fanned everything out in front of him on the table.

"As I said before, scouts were on South Brother Island on Monday August 11th and they noticed some flashing light coming from North Brother Island. Once they got home, some of the scouts shared the information with their parents and the parents called the police. The first chance we had to get out there was the afternoon of the 12th. Fred Narracott tried to stop us. He wondered why the emergency response team that the production company hired didn't answer the distress call."

"Emergency response team? Production company?" Lindsay asked.

"Mr. Narracott was under the impression that a reality show was being filmed out on the island. It was all a cover story to keep people from going out there. He was told that the guests would be on the island for a week and that he was to pick everyone up on Friday afternoon."

"When we got to the location we found the ten victims. We carefully scanned the scene into the computer: each room, the area around the house and down by the rocks where Zimmer was found. We collected everything we considered as evidence and that might help tell the story of what happened. The main piece of evidence that we found was…" he rummaged around in a box and found a digital recorder. "…This." He pressed play then set the small device on the table. Everyone around the table leaned forward to look at the device as if it were going to jump off the table and do a little dance. Silence surrounded them as they waited for something to happen.

Into that silence came a voice. Without warning it invaded the room with its deep and gravely sounds.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Silence please!" Those who had leaned in jumped back and away from the table. The two men from out of the office snickered at the reaction. The sound bounced off the walls and around the room, they knew where it was coming from, and yet they looked around to see if it was from somewhere else. The voice went continued.

"You are charged with the following indictments: Craig Zimmer, that you did upon the 14th day of May, 2004, cause the death of Gina Mortonsen.

Evelyn Pierpont, that upon the 12th March, 2007, you were responsible for the death of Simone DeLille.

Dean Truby, that you brought about the death of Kym Tanaka on November 8th, 2006.

Staci Meyers, that on the 9th day of November, 2005, you killed Alexa Endecott and four other people.

Felix Redman, that upon many dates in January of 2009 , you were guilty of causing the deaths of hundreds of people in Guiya, China.

Robert Dunbrook, that on the 29th of October, 2008, you deliberately caused the death of Kevin Cross.

Jerry and Linda Gordon, that on the 14th of December, 2005, you brought about the death of Hunter Hudson.

Mac Taylor, that you on November 19, 2008 did bring about the death of Daniel Oka.

Justin Wargrave, that upon the 10th day of June, 2006, you were guilty of the murder of Edward Seton.

Prisoners at the bar, have you anything to say in your defense?"

The voice stopped. No breaths were taken. Silence filled the room again and then Adam sneezed and everyone jumped again. Sid was the first one to take a breath.

"That all sounds about right." Stella spoke the first words.

"The details are exact." Maine backed her up. "I looked into each accusation and found them to be right on the mark. The victims came to the conclusion that they were brought to the island to pay for the crimes that they did. However most of them paid their penalty with jail time or probation."

"Yeah, but a few did not pay at all and were let off because of technicalities, questionable forensics, or because of the amount of money that they had in their pocket at the time, I'm sure." Angell kept the discussion going.

"Last night on the phone you stated that there were eleven victims. You only named ten found on the island. What about the eleventh?" Stella questioned remembering more of their conversation from the night before.

"That would be Terrance Davis." Maine added.

"What does he have to do with all this?" Flack bolted upright in his chair, remembering how much help Terrance had been in the past both professionally and personally.

"He died on the night of August 8th. Took an overdose of sleeping pills and yet we found no prescription bottles in the apartment for that drug or any drug."

"Again, what does he have to do with this case?" Flack was growing a little impatient.

"He made all the arrangements for transportation, construction, food, and hired help. He was working for a third party and he made that point very clear when he talked to people."

"And he's dead too?"

"Yes."

"And you think it's connected?" Others at the table watched the two have their conversation as if it were a tennis game.

"Yes. Almost everyone who might have known who set this whole thing up was killed."

"So in your opinion what do you think happened when?" Lindsay asked. A blank sheet of paper laid on the table in front of her ready to lay it all out in order.

"We're not quite clueless about how things went down on the island. Staci Meyers kept a diary, so did Evie Pierpont. Wargrave made some notes, cryptic stuff. And Truby made notes too. All those accounts are the same. The deaths occurred in this order: Taylor, Mrs. Gordon, Dunbrook, Mr. Rogers, Miss Pierpont, Wargrave and then Armstrong disappeared."

"There are a lot of theories about what happened next. Armstrong kills them all and then throws himself to the river either trying to escape or kill himself. However the coroner states that he'd been dead at least thirty six hours and we noted tide levels and he was pulled up out of the water and taken higher than the tide line, so someone had to be alive after Zimmer."

"We tried to imagine what could have happened with the final three, but with the evidence and coroner's report nothing really adds up." Larson and Maine threw out the theories that they tossed around while back in their building, but they all seemed to fall apart at some point. Stella looked at the photos and tried to get a feeling for the house. She looked at the house plans and just got confused about where things were found and how it all went together.

"Detective, can we go out and into the house?" Stella asked.

"Yes. Since we have been out there and back it's been all locked up and under NYPD security. We can head out there first thing in the morning if the weather is clear. There was that huge storm weekend before last that had the current in the East River was raging. If it's that way again, it gets dicey pulling up to the island."

"Okay, that settles it." She addressed the room. "This is the only case that we are on. Before the end of the day brief other on the cases that you are working on and hand them off. Document everything for them so that they can for the other investigators. I will make all the arrangements for the hours and overtime. Sid I know this is your last week with us, but if you would like to extend your time and see it thru, it be a great story at all the retirement parties that are thrown for you. Flack, Angell, I will talk to your supervisor and get you assigned to this case." Appreciative nods came from both. "We meet tomorrow, 9 AM, at the dock where Fred Narracott runs his water taxi out of. I would like to talk to him and see what he remembers. Then we walk the scene." Everyone was taking notes about what she had just said. "See you in the morning. Get some sleep and come comfortable we're gonna be crawling around in the elements tomorrow."

The table broke apart and everyone went in all directions. Danny stayed behind to talk further with the two leads from the Bronx. Stella watched him use all the skills that he'd learned from watching Mac. He oozed confidence and strength in the job that he stepped into. She was proud of him and what he'd achieved. A smile flashed on her face. It came from the knowledge that she could call Mac once again and thank him for the push to get Danny into that position.

**

Everyone spent hours at their desks sending e-mails out to the new detectives who would be taking over their cases. Stella had to laugh as she passed the offices because they all looked like students were who doing write-offs. Each shuffled papers, wrote information meticulously, and checked their computers for updates. The sun went down and the team stayed for a little longer. Slowly the rooms and halls emptied and Stella finally felt comfortable leaving the lab and going home for some sleep.

She tried Mac's phone one more time and left him a message when the voice mail picked up. She told him that she missed him and how she couldn't wait for him to get home and share information about his adventure.

* * *

So now its all laid out. What do you think? Good, bad, ugly? There are so many places that it can go from here.

Let me know what you think? Read and review.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Today is nothing like the day that I took those people out to the island, I'll tell you that." Fred Narracott stood near his boat, describing the weather conditions on that Friday to Stella. He went about checking the boat before they shoved off. The sky was a clear brilliant blue, a handful of bright fluffy clouds dotted to sky. The air was still cool from the night before, but it would turn out to be a gorgeous summer day in the city. They would all be spending it out in the middle of the river in the busiest city. Each member of the small team was instructed to wear jeans and gym shoes, and to be ready for the work Stella had described the day before. Lindsay and Angell stood across the wide dock and drooled at the scenery standing in front of them.

"Have you seen anything in your life that looked better than that?" Angell confided in the woman next to her while they leaned against the metal rail on the dock. The two women rode together with their other halves, which is not unusual, to the dock and arrived a bit early. Flack and Danny moved off to the side to discuss last night's games. Others arrived every few minutes but it didn't stop the two women from taking in the sights.

"Danny once tried to tell me that the skyline of New York City looked better than the wheat fields back home, but that," she waved a finger in the direction of their sight, "beats both suggestions hands down."

"I've never seen a wheat field. I don't think I've ever seen a naturally growing field, but this has to be way better." It was hard for the two women not to be friends. Their guys were always together. Lindsay and Angell formed a bond to help themselves survive. There was a lot in common between them and they became like sisters quickly.

The scene that caught the women's attention, the jaw dropping breathtaking object of their attentions was the sight of their men across the way from them. Like a vine wine, age did good things to them that were still butterly in the stomach worthy. Each were dressed for the job that day: warn jeans hugging in all the right places, t-shirts that stretched over their chests and arms, and sunglasses that gave them that summer casual look. The sun was still a little low in the sky, still trying to wake itself up for the day and silhouetted them from behind. It was a sight worth a few moments of drool.

Stella came to stand between them. "Doesn't Sid, standing in that light, just hit you in all the warm places?" Both women turned and stared Stella down with the most confused and disgusted look on their faces.

"That is just wrong. We were standing here just looking God's work and you had to go and ruin it." Angell complained.

"God's work and hours in the precinct gym. I know what you were doing; I just had to give you a hard time about it." She started the short walk to the end of the dock where a boat stood waiting. "Come on girls, wipe the drool from the corners of your mouths and lets go."

One by one, Danny, Adam, Don, Sid, Lindsay, Jessica, Hawkes, Larson, Maine, and Stella stepped down off the dock and into the boat. It went a little lower in the water each time someone stepped in. By the time Stella let herself step down nervous eyes were looking at how high the water line had gotten and how low the boat was riding in the water.

"What's the history of where we are going?" Hawkes inquired.

"North Brother Island is one of two islands in the North part of the East River that have always been paired together. They cover about twenty acres of land all together and North Brother covers thirteen acres on its own. It's heavily wooded with dense forest and the edges are rocky. Hiding under the leaf litter are the ruins of Riverside Hospital. The hospital moved from Roosevelt Island to North Brother in 1889. The hospital gave a place for people to go when they needed to be quarantined. Typhoid Mary was held there for over twenty years." The story teller didn't notice the blank stares he was getting, and he kept on going. "Riverside closed, but after World War II the island reopened to veterans and their families when housing was scarce in the city. People gradually moved on as years passed and in the late 1950s teens with drug addiction were sent to the island for treatment in the old buildings. They ran a program that was one of a kind at the time but the staff became corrupt and the facility and to close. It's been off limits and closed to the public since." Flack finished telling what he knew to the huddled group on the boat and was met with blank faces. "What?"

"How do you know so much about the island?" Danny asked. "I mean, I've lived in this city all my life, just like you and I didn't know these islands existed let alone all the stuff you just spouted out like a travel agent."

"One of my kids at the 'Y' did a project about the islands and I ended up helping out. But I don't remember anything about it still being privately owned."

Narracott, who had been listening to the whole story piped in at this point. "The island is mostly owned by the city. It has been set aside for conservation. Whoever is behind all of this has some pull with the city and bought some acres on the southern tip of the island for his dream home with the promise to leave the hospital site untouched. The construction of the house brought me a lot of business. All the materials had to be taken over. Not many trees could be cut down or anything. New power and plumbing had to be run out, at a great expense, I imagine. I figured it was it was always the production assistant that I was talking to when the arrangements were made, but I guess it was this one guy's assistant. Anyway, the work crew took about six months to build the house and clean up the work site."

"Have you ever been up to see it?"

"Nope, and I really don't want to either. I say it's cursed or haunted. Anyone who goes there ends up in a bad way sooner or later."

"Wow, its haunted, cursed and the sight of a multiple deaths. Sounds like a trip to Disneyland to me." Danny cut with a sarcastic remark.

The island loomed closer and closer. Waves broke at the base of the rocks that seemed to circle the small patch of land in the middle of the river. It was a harsh landscape and a few doubted the pilot's ability to land safely near the shore. Many hands went out to help bring the craft to a soft stop against the wooden dock. The line from the boat was dwarfed by the large heavy iron ring that it was tied to. The boat was finally secure and empty, but some wanted to be back in the boat and heading back into the familiar world of the city. With every crashing wave the dock moved slightly and spray showered them. Quickly they made their way up the path and into the dense wooded landscape that Flack had described. Very little light made it to the ground through the leaves above head. A little further ahead the group came to a small clearing where the house was nestled. Some of the trees were less than a foot from the outside wall of the lower level on each side, but there was a good fifteen feet of clear space from the tree line to the bottom step.

Before them stood a large house with a deep wraparound porch that spanned both sides. The tall wide windows made the house look so charming and welcoming. The browns and natural colors of the exterior made it feel like it had grown into its place naturally. There was nothing gloomy or foreboding about the structure in front of them yet they stood at the bottom of the stairs like the gang from Mystery Inc. sizing up any threat the house might have held. The two detectives from the Bronx chuckled and mounted the steps. The team from the lab followed the other two detectives up the steps and into the house.

Stella lost her breath. A small entry opened up into a two story foyer. A living room was off to the right, dining room to the left. A set of stairs hugged around two of the walls and ascended to the second floor to eight bedroom and four baths. Behind the dining room was the kitchen, service quarters and another smaller set of stairs. The layout was fabulous, classic and Stella fell in love with it. It was open, spacious and Stella fell in love with the feel of the house. It was a dream to be standing in a house like that. Take away the ten bodies…take away the mystery…take away the history and she could be very happy living in that house. It was like time stood still almost a century ago.

Lindsay took out a clean map of the house and started making notes about the placement of objects that seemed out of place as she looked around. She noted broken windows, objects, placement of furniture and was about the head up to the second floor when she was stopped.

"We want to walk you through what we thing happened. We will take this one body at a time and its going to be somewhat confusing."

They were shown each room the evidence was pointed out and if it was no longer on the island a photo was held up showing the details of a weapon or location of where it was in the room. The macabre tour started in the living room where the journals stated that Mac Taylor was the first to die…poisoning. Details of what they knew were told and they moved to the next scene. They moved from room to room, location to location. They had to go upstairs, downstairs, outside and then back in. Evidence in a room was explained as if it were crown molding. Room were not entered, they huddled around the doorway as if there were velvet ropes blocking their entry at a historic landmark. Notes were taken, shapes drawn on the map, side notes of questions to ask.

After the tour of who died where and how the house was turned over the Stella and the investigators. Maine and Larson stood back and watched, making sure they were out of the way but close enough to answer questions. Every inch of the private property was combed through. They were impressed how no stone was left unturned, literally. The leaf litter outside was kicked through, shelves checked for false fronts and hiding places. The out buildings were emptied and refilled. Nothing new was found, no questions were answered. Stella hoped to find that one clue, that one tangible piece of evidence that would bring it all together, but it didn't happen she was frustrated.

When the sun hit its highest point in the sky and had barely started its graceful dive back to the earth, everyone was rocking on the front porch or sitting on the railings. It was the second half of August and the sun warmed the earth, but a cool breeze whispered through the trees and the leaves above shaded the area. It was the perfect day.

Ten people died on the island earlier that month and now ten people sat out front on the porch enjoying the day. It felt like they were miles away from anyone and everything society had to offer. One could almost forget that New York City was less than a mile away in all directions. The trees drowned out the sound of the river and the river muted the sound of the city.

"Anyone notice how quiet it has been?" Maine mentioned.

"Yes, it's so peaceful here." Lindsay was sunken into one of the rocking chair listening to the birds sing in the trees around them.

"Your cell phones haven't been either have they? Is that normal for crime scene investigators?" Larson caught onto the point that Maine was trying to make: police officers cells phones and radios were never quiet.

"I didn't even notice that it wasn't ringing like it always does every five seconds." As if on cue eight people pulled out their life lines to the world and each dialed a different number to try and see what was going on. Nobody had a signal.

"We came to the conclusion that there is one of the signal scramblers somewhere around the island. We can't find it. No cell phone, walkie talkie, nothing can get a signal and it's that way until you get about a hundred feet off shore."

"The frequency scrambler is probably in the same place as the data hub for the surveillance system." Adam made the comment without thinking and looked up in the corner where he saw the pinhole in the boards.

"What surveillance system?" Larson questioned.

"There are cameras all over the place; I counted maybe twelve or thirteen all around the house in the different rooms." He pointed at where the one on the front porch was installed. Everyone got up to look at what Adam had seen.

"Adam, where else did you see these?" Stella shockingly asked.

"There was one in each of the eight bedrooms, one in the living room, dining room, porch and foyer. You really have not found the control box, it has to be close."

"We didn't even know the cameras were there, how were we to know that there was a control box?"

"Let's go find it." Flack jumped up from his chair took the blueprint of the house out of Angell's hand. "Messser, Ross let's do this." The other two men ran and followed and they took off around one side of the house.

"Jess, Stella, I say that was head around the other way and see if we can find it before the guys do." Lindsay was off the porch before she was done yelling out to them. They followed with hopes of finding something before the men did. There was nothing like a little healthy bit of competition to pass the time.

Methodically Danny and Adam worked around the house while Flack followed their progress on the map. They looked for anything that was different from the blue prints: electrical boxes, hidden panels, extra square footage. They found nothing extra so far. On the other side of the house the girls were doing it to old fashion way and knocking on the sides of the house and using touch to see if anything moved that shouldn't have. When a brick seemed to move the girls got really excited but it led to nothing. They continued around to the back where they found an open door and three excited men looking at a small closet full of electrical equipment.

Out of breath Angell tried to cover. "Oh good, you found it."

"We were just coming to find you to let you know it was time to head back." Lindsay leaned against the open doorway for support.

"All of the hard drives need to go back with us. They should hold the information from the cameras. I will hook it up and see what they captured. We should have this all wrapped up very soon." Adam looked like a kid in a candy store.

**

On the dock Stella and Danny were trying to figure out what to do next. The sun was almost kissing the tops of the buildings and the tide was changing. They needed to get off the island soon.

"So what is the next step?" Danny inquired.

"I think we need to visit the victims homes to check and see if there are any connections between them in the last month or so that might have been missed." Stella figured.

"I think Sid and Hawkes might need to double check the coroner's reports to see what they said the times of death were and try to make a true timeline of the order of deaths." Danny came up with.

"That's good. Don and Jess can hit their homes and I want you and Lindsay to pull our files about the original crimes and see what happened to them. Maybe it was planned for them all to be out at the same time so that they could be on that island."

"You got it dear."

"Danny…after all of these years, I have still not grown a tail." She laughed at the long time running joke that they still had. They filled the rest of the group in on what was going to happen the next day and they made their way onto the boat with the computer equipment. The island became smaller and smaller as they made their way back to civilization. They left behind the island and all its secrets it held.

* * *

_we delve into the cases and lives of the victims next to see if and how they were all connected._

_Let me know what you think so far, please...still not to sure what everyone is thinking here._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Hey babe, you want a glass of wine or a beer with dinner?" Flack's voice called from their kitchen.

"Beer. Hurry up." She fell into their couch and found the station with the game. Jessica never really was a baseball fan until Don came into her life and then she fell in love with the game and the man. She was more of a hockey fan.

The investigation on the island finished long before their regularly scheduled shift was to end and being home for a game was a treat. The pizza was on its way, comfortable clothes were found and put on, and she was looking forward to a night of lounging on the couch with the best pillow in the world and rooting for the team who was playing against his just to rub him the wrong way. It was a game they played. It was the way she flirted, but she had something else on her mind tonight.

"I was impressed by what you knew about the island we were on today."

Don scoffed as he gathered items from the cabinets in their kitchen. He couldn't figure out what she was getting at. Was this a line? There had been so many in their past and they just kept coming. "Really?"

"Yeah. The subject must have made some impression on you for you to remember so much so clearly."

He knew it wasn't the subject. There were islands all up and down the rivers around the city. All the kids were doing reports on different places . But there was something about that one report that made him remember all the details. "It wasn't the subject as much as the kid's enthusiasm for the project."

"The kid, huh?" There was a deep pause before she spoke again. "You think it'd be that way if you had your own kid."

All work in the kitchen came to a dead stop and his eyes popped up from what he was working on. Many questions flew through his mind. Only one was verbalized. "You trying to tell me something?"

"No, just making conversation." But it wasn't. It was a nudge to get information.

His brain started working quickly again. "I don't know how it would be with my own." He came around the end of the couch with hands full of snacks, bottles of beer, and napkins for when the pizza arrived. He demanded a kiss before he slipped the cold bottle into her waiting fingers.

"We have been with each other for a while now, and as far as I know we both like the life that we have. But, we always skirt around the topic of the future…and kids…and growing old together. I get vague answers to questions and you don't ask or talk about it that much." She probed again with words.

"I really hadn't thought a lot about those things. I have liked the way things have been going but now I know it's on your mind, I guess I should think about some of those things too." Smooth talker points were awarded to him in the form of a smile.

Another kiss was offered as he sat down. She pulled him closer. One kiss led to another and then another. The beer was forgotten and the pizza man left the box by the door after waiting for someone to answer his knocks for ten minutes. The game played in the back ground.

A while later, a half dressed Flack opened the door to the hallway and grabbed the pizza from where the delivery guy left it.

**

Alice was jolted away from the mystery she was reading when the front door opened and Sid arrived home from work. He started telling her this crazy tale of murderers being murdered and he hadn't shut up since. "I know that you wanted to go out quietly, but isn't this a lot more interesting?"

Alice Hammerback was putting the finishing touches on the table while Sid stood over pots and pans on the stove. As usual they made dinner together and talked about this and that. Days had been boring since he handed in his retirement papers. He didn't have as much to share as in the past. The assistant ME was stepping up and learning more about the job that he would soon fill. Sid felt a little old the last few days. He felt a little useless way down in the basement of the building where so much went on. This case was making him feel alive again.

Alice patiently listened and heard vigor in his voice again. "You sure you're ready for retirement?"

"Sure, sure."

"I've just seen more life in you the last two days than I have for about a month."

Her comment left him something to think about.

**

A fine glass of red wine would be her warm comfort for the night, like it was for most nights. Case files would be her entertainment. Sleep started to be something to do when everything else was done.

Stella became Mac…except Mac would probably have a beer and not a glass of wine.

She adopted the habits of Mac involuntarily. She woke early, stayed late, was over stressed, underfed and always had that focused determined look in her eye. It was rare that she was home before ten at night. She was the first one in the office each morning, it helped sometimes that she didn't go home. The stack of files on the corner of the desk they shared had grown taller and she consulted them often. Danny wondered and joked with her about transferring to the cold case unit because she spent so much time in those files that were waiting for the one push that would close the case.

Those files were not what had her awake that night. Ten people were dead and she wanted it solved. There were only two little questions to answer. What order did these people die in and who moved the chair if Staci Meyers was really the last one to die?

Another sip was taken before she shifted on the bed and spread her work out. The TV came on as a bit of company and she dove into the information in front of her.

**

"Shelly-girl." Adam greeted his daughter. She walked towards him with unsteady Frankenstein steps that only a toddler could master. Two little arms rose as a demand to be held in her father's arms. Adam whisked her from the floor and spun her around like a helicopter over his own head. "Where's mama?"

"…itchin'"

"Mama's in the kitchen?"

"Yup yup."

"She must be making some yum yums." Realization of his life froze him in place in the middle of the living room. Signs of a domesticated life were all around him. Stuffed animals, board books, pacifiers were scattered all over the place. He shook his head and laughed at the exchange he was having and the conditions of his home. Three years ago if someone had told him that he would be having this conversation today with a child that was part of him and the woman he loved, he would have himself and the other person committed. With his child safely perched on his shoulders, Adam went in search of his wonderful wife.

He was a lucky man. Kendal left New York for a while and yet returned to him; she loved the lab but needed a change. When she returned the attraction between them was combustible. She took a job in a private research lab with steady hours. Adam started bringing her around to drinks with the team. She teased him and gave him a hard time, but others saw it as their way of flirting. With time he was able to match wits and they married a year and a half ago. Quickly Kendal became pregnant and Michelle Grace was born. Adam felt an overwhelming peace in his life.

"Where is my wonderful wife?"

"In the kitchen hoping that my crime investigation husband remembered to pick up milk at the store." She leaned back from the stove so that he had full access to the side of her face for a kiss.

"I did. Smells good in here. How was your day?" She was preparing two grown up plates of food and cutting some noodles into kid sized bites for Shelly. Adam held onto his daughter with one hand around her back and he wrapped Kendal with the other. He placed the sweetest kiss on his cheek.

"That's all you got. Come on. If you're gonna kiss me, then kiss me." How as he to refuse a request like that?

His normal evening started with dinner. Then Shelly got her bath, stories, hugs and kisses and then went to bed. He and Kendal would have their own quiet evening. His life was everything that he wanted.

**

Artie was a messy eater. The stage two sized jars of baby foods never seemed to be enough and he got to eat mashed potatoes or flavored rice cereal to help fill him up. Lindsay knew that she was in trouble when he took his first steps because he was bound to go one way while Lucy went the other. Crawling was an adventure in their apartment. They had to start thinking like a baby again and find the things that he would get into. No matter how much they planned and child-proofed their home, he always found something. He was his father's son.

Lucy was a big help. She adored her little brother. When he was born she helped diaper, feed, bathe, and be the best big sister ever. Lindsay was grateful. Danny was logging more hours at work with his promotion and enjoying the new leadership role that he was in and there were nights that she needed an extra pair of hands. His parents were their on-call baby sitters. Shifts changed, hours run long, and the boss is always called in for one thing or another. Lindsay wanted to move closer to his parents to make the commute for the kids and adults better. It was twenty minutes to get there and then forty-five to get back to the lab. It was an ongoing conversation. They talked a little here and there about getting a house by his parents but nothing ever came from it.

Lindsay hauled the kids to the bathroom for a bath. Cleaned, dried, brushed and clothed, both kids were tucked away for the evening. The switch was slid down so that the only light in the kids' room was coming from the Little Mermaid night light that Mac for Lucy on her first birthday. The light was soft and the kids' breathing evened out. Lindsay snuck from the room and back down the hall.

She puffed a stray piece of hair from her face. The dishes were waiting just down the hall in the kitchen. Not what she wanted to deal with after a long day at work and then afternoon home with the kids. The dishwasher broke last spring and they just hadn't done anything about it yet. But something else always came up and the money put aside for the dishwasher was spent on new tires, dance lessons, and other family things that were never seen coming.

She turned the corner to a sight that caught her breath: the dishes were done. She forgot that Danny was at the dinner table with them. He was home for the night and had them washed and they were drying in the dish drainer. He was the sneaky one tonight. While she did baths and night time routine, he cleaned the kitchen. She wanted to cry, but went in search of her husband instead.

**

Sheldon Hawkes never backed down from a challenge or a woman. Late one night while coming home from work he ran into a woman who was going to give him the challenge of his life. Just inside the lobby of his building there was this beautiful woman fighting with her mailbox. She just couldn't get hers open for some reason. Being the gentleman that he was, he offered to help. She stepped away mumbling something along the lines of "if you think that you can do better, go ahead…"

The challenge spiraled into his ear and there was no flirt to the words at all. There was no kind 'thanking' tone at all. But he was not about to back down.

It took muscles, a flathead screwdriver, and a crowbar to finally get the little metal door open. And they weren't his muscles…they were hers. The mail in the box that jammed the locking mechanism was not hers; it was from the previous tenant. She just moved in that day. She was his new neighbor.

They ran into each other and she would call him her "would be handy man." She agreed to coffee, then dinner, then more. Seven month together and he surprised her in the park that night with a stroll and ice cream. He filled her in about the case, the victims, and their original victims. She listened and they got closer and closer as the night went on.


	6. Chapter 6

_Again I am blessed with wonderful readers and reviewers. Thank you so much. I look forward to Wednesdays for more than one reason now. Keep it up and so will I. For those of your reading Different Beginnings - the next chapter is almost done._

Chapter 6

Adam was already typing away at the keyboard when Stella entered the lab. It wasn't that big of a surprise. It was a huge case, he had a colossal puzzle that needed to be solved and he wouldn't be able to sit still until all the pieces fit together. Stella had no clue that the hard drive was encrypted and that the information about how, why and when ten people died was no clearer than the day before. She had no idea that he'd been through two cans of Dr. Pepper already that morning. He'd found a buried 'readme' file that was poured over and he only found the web address for the company. It was copied into his web browser and waited for the page to load. He sifted through page of explanation, company guarantees, and testimonials only to learn over and over again that he would need a username and password to access the files and film footage. Stella didn't know he already made a phone call to the company, but because it was 7:15 in the morning, there was no one in the office. While he waited he figured he would crack the site on his own.

Nothing was helping and he was ready to turn the computer into a large paperweight or fish bowl when Stella entered the conference room. From other lab techs in the area she heard about how long Adam had been working and the colorful words that he sent bouncing off the walls in frustration. With the arrival of others, he needed to censor himself.

"So, Adam…who did it?" She held a teasing smile on her lips knowing that he made no progress. Her belongings were placed in the chair that naturally became hers at the head of the table.

"Very funny." The chair under him spun bringing them face to face. "I did find out one thing." Optimism spilled from his words.

"Really, what was that?"

"Whoever did this, was very good." He quirked an eyebrow hoping that the information would be helpful.

"Keep at it. You and I are going to work out of here today while the others revisit the victims' homes to get all the helpful information they can find, buy and steal."

"You got it boss lady."

**

Across town Flack and Angell were roaming around the spacious entry way of the home of Robert Dunbrook.

"I don't want to be here." Angell murmured out loud.

"I'm right there with ya." He gave a reassuring squeeze around the waist before they parted ways to go to explore.

"How is it that this guy was out of jail?" She was still talking to herself but somehow Flack heard her.

"Money." Was yelled from another part of the home. "I would bet my left nut that he had everyone involved with his trial was on his payroll. Evidence got lost, witnesses died or got killed and BOOM, no more case."

"Boom? You and Danny have been working together for too long. And don't betting anything valuable, dear."

A quick look around the magnificent dwelling produced a home office. Books lined the walls; the smell of leather hung in the air. It was evident by the staleness that the place had been sealed since the murders. The desk got the most attention. The found receipts, files, and second date book with the weekend on the island marked. A letter was paper clipped to the page.

_Dunbrook, one or two of your old college brothers are coming out to my island for a weekend getaway. You need to be there. Am interested in discussing a business proposition with all of you._

The meeting instructions were included. The tone of the letter gave the understanding that it wasn't a request or invite, but an expectation and no matter what Dunbrook would be there. It was more of less of a summons.

They collected the letter and a few other items that were around his apartment, locked the door behind them and stepped out into the busy street. Both were relieved to have that behind them.

"One down." Flack adjusted the his pants at the waist.

"And nine to go. Come on." She beckoned him to follow.

**

Danny was spitting tacks. Inside he was cursing the second and third files of the day. They looked innocent enough sitting between he and Lindsay on the desk. The first file was easy enough to get through but this one was personal. Written on the tabs were "Linda Cortez" and "Jerry Gordon".

"Kidnapping a police officer, first degree murder, obstruction of justice and tampering with evidence, these things don't keep people in jail for the rest of their lives?"

Lindsay knew how shaken Danny was when he got out of that panic room after spending hours with a dead body. It was different when you could walk up, process and then walk away, but when the body was stuck with you or you stuck with the body it was totally different. Plus there was no circulation and that kind of environment plays with your mind. To top it all off Danny started a relationship with is brother again after of that case. He was heartbroken when Louie was beaten within an inch of _his_ _own_ life to save Danny's. That reminded Lindsay, she needed to call and have flowers sent to the cemetery, Louie's birthday was coming around again. She made a note in her planner while Danny mumbled under his breath and then focused again on the case.

"Evidence thrown out due to questionable collection procedures." She read. Danny wanted to protest, but Lindsay stopped him. "I know you did the best you could with what you had, but according to FBI standards, which is what Mac insist on, it wasn't good enough _and_ most of the evidence was destroyed by the processes or all the samples were contaminated or deteriorated by the time a full investigation took place by Stella and I. The rest of the charges were covered with probation and community service. The case was so confusing in court and the fact that most of the evidence was gone, they didn't get any jail time. Apparently they got married at some point." She made a note in each file that they married each other and found nothing else useful to help them with the island mystery and shuffled them to the top of the finished pile. Lindsay folded her hands in front of her on the desk. "Next."

**

"Dean Truby." Angell said outloud indicating to Flack where they were going next when Flack pulled the car away from their latest location.

"Again, another example of 'what the hell is this guy doing out of jail'?" He hit the steering wheel and cursed the name of the NYPD officer who tarnished the reputation of the force.

"What did the recording accuse him of?"

"Killing Kym Tanaka, the paint ball player."

"But he survived last I knew."

"The injury to his leg caused him to leave the professional paintball circuit, he had no sensible work skills, and was unemployed. After a while he lost everything and died living on the street. The body came through the ME's office and word got around to all of the people who worked the case. I guess whoever set all this up, thinks that because of the circumstances, Truby ultimately killed this guy. And that brings us back to 'what the hell is this guy doing out of jail?'"

Jess read from the file quickly to find any answer. "He rolled on some of the other people involved in the drug scheme and received a lighter sentence for it all. He went into private security." The car pulled over to the side in front of the apartment house where Truby lived.

**

"Any luck over there Adam?" For hours they worked in silence in the same room. Adam tapped away at the keyboard trying to find a way around the username and password but had no success. Stella sat on the floor and worked the case by looking through the evidence boxes that the Bronx detectives left behind.

He paused and dug deep to find the most sarcastic tone he could. "Oh yeah, I cracked the sight hours ago and I've been watching murders happen left and right." He paused again. "I think the cry of "Eureka" would have let you know that I got passed the front page of the website."

Stella looked at the name on the front of the next box. "Ah, our favorite person, Felix Redman." A groan came from behind the monitor. "Hey, it wasn't him who blasted you across the street. He was the victim."

"Yeah, but if he was not _illegally_ dumping e-waste into the country side of China, which he was blown up for, I could have finished that game and earned the respect of my teammates for my skills."

"And being thrown by a blast, getting up and saving a guy from his house that was falling apart didn't earn you any street cred?" She went back to the file in hand. "I hate the guy for what he was doing for the people over there."

"And now it's come back and kicked him in the ass."

"Much like you and your life?"

"Yeah…wait…what? How do you figure?"

"Kendal was here for a little while, when Mac got back from London and had the 333 killers. You two used to compete to no end. She knew how to push your buttons. It was so fun to watch. She left and we went had other lab techs in and out, but none that drove you as crazy as she did. Upon her return, she found you again and has turned your life upside down. You even got a beautiful daughter out of it. Kendal successfully turned your life around and kicked you in the ass."

"Hey now, I did some head spinning of my own. But, you're right things have really turned out well." Adam had that dreamy look in his eye. Stella hadn't had anyone like that in her life to go dreamy over. "Anyway, I am going to go call the company and see if I can charm the information that I need out of the supervisor over there."

**

For it being his last case for the city of New York, Sid was giddy. He was able to help out with a case and not get his hands dirty. His butt was sore though, he was not used to sitting this long. Sheldon Hawkes sat across the desk from him in his office that was almost bare from any personality; it was all carted home already. Two chairs and the old wooden desk that Sid insisted using for all those years were the only things left. Files and reports and notes were combed through. They were looking for anything that looked suspicious and hoped to get a correct timeline of deaths put together.

"Evelyn Pierpont." Sid called out, pulling the file from the top of the stack. "She's the next one. What was she charged with?"

"Nothing." Hawkes barked. The questioning look on Sid's face almost made the younger man burst out with laughter. "We suspected her, but there was no evidence to charge her with anything. She was a spoiled little girl from high society who was bored. She used her intelligence to play with the lives of those around her and two people ended up dead and others were accused for it. No one was really charged with anything in the end. Stella wanted to bust her so bad."

"Someone got final justice."

"That's the thing. It seems like all these cases were a final justice for those who did not get punished enough in someone's eyes. The creepy part…" Sid raised his brow at the use of the word 'creepy' and Hawkes started again. "The creepy part is that it feels like someone is personally doing justice for the department to help get those who got away or the sentence was not harsh enough."

"The mastermind of all this…" He waved his hands at the desk. "…knew a great deal about these people, what names and subjects to mention in their letters to ensure they would come to that island…and they way too much about the NYPD and this lab to get and have all this information." Sid laid a hand on top of the stack of files for emphasis. Hawkes gave him a look of complete understanding.

**

"Who is Staci Meyers?" Lunch was on the table in the little diner where Flack and Angell stopped and she held one of their last cases in her hand.

"She was part of a case that was B. A." He chuckled and took another large bit of his sandwich. 'B. A.' was a term that Flack loved to use with her when she asked about something that happened before she became a detective: 'Before Angell'

"I can see that it happened before me, the date is written at the top of all the pages here. What I want to know is what is the case about."

"Henry Darius."

"That name I know. He killed a bunch of people in the Endecott apartment because he wanted money that he thought was a birth right."

"That's the case. Staci Meyers was another spark that added to the flame. Now follow me, this gets complicated. Darius and Endecott had crossed paths with the same therapist, its how Darius figured out the relation. The therapist's secretary, Staci Meyers, overheard Alyssa mention the money and blackmailed her into stealing and splitting it. Alexa threw a party to cover the theft. Darius came in with Alyssa to get the money, but it was gone and he killed everyone. Meyers was arrested because the robbery ended in murder. However, it got so confusing that her lawyer got her off. The DA could not nail down a time when the money left the apartment and what time Darius entered the apartment so they were viewed as separate incidents. The media never really heard about the planned theft or how it was tied to the nurders. They knew Darius's name and they wanted him for the high society murders."

"But she was the reason all those kids were at the apartment, she was the reason more people died, she was the reason that the money was gone."

"See you understand the big picture. At the time the big picture was to fry Darius not the little fish in the pond."

Jess finished her lunch and pushed her plate away. "How many more places do we have to visit after her?" She asked. There could be another night at home in the near future.

"Three, Justin Wargrave was from upstate and officials from the area are checking out his place."

"Let's get this done."

They both hoped that the rest of the day would not be as wasteful or long and drawn out as what had already passed.

* * *

_There ya go. Next chapter is the review of all the rest of the victims and then magic will happen. See you next week, unless I get a little antsy and publish._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Dr. Craig Zimmer." Danny announced when he pulled the next file from the pile. At the sound of the name Lindsay melted both emotionally and physically and it didn't go unnoticed by Danny. The name was familiar to him but obviously Lindsay remembered something he didn't. "What is that look for?"

"I have good memories from that case." She was still off in dream land.

"Like what kind?" He had no clue. He didn't work on the case. He thumbed the pages to review the facts and came to his signature at the bottom of a page. He was reading the page instead of listening to her. Each story, the one being told by her and the one documented on the page were the same. He had signed off on a reenactment of a theory about the case. He signed into the scene at 4:17pm and signed out at 6:05pm. He searched his brain for anything that would turn on the light bulb about why he was at this scene. Something hit him in the head.

"Are you listening to me, here I am reminiscing about the time you held me in your arms and conned your way from drinks to dinner and there you are reading the dry details of the case."

He remembered that day now. A text came late in the day asking if he had a few minutes to help out with a case. She offered him drinks afterwards. It was the opportunity he'd hoped for. He thought she was attractive, they got along well and he looked, at the time, for a way to ask her out. The opportunity came to him, instead of him having to chase it. The time it took for him to cross town to where she was would make a marathon runner proud. He found her on the roof and she told him what she wanted him to do. It was the closest he'd been to her and hoped that it was just the beginning. She fit perfectly in his arms and her fingers tickled the skin below his ear when she put her arms around his neck. He had to steady his breathing as he held her close. It was over too quickly and he wanted to hold her like that again and again. The memory was so vivid in his mind.

"How long ago was that case?"

He looked at the date at the top again. "2004."

"Ten years ago, I can still see the whole thing clearly in my head." She signed a sigh of contentment.

"Was he the guilty one?" Danny didn't know all the specifics of the case. It wasn't assigned to him.

"No, Flack did have his medical license revoked though. He was high when he operated and linked to a CPR procedure that happened on the roof of the building that went wrong because of his addiction."

"I guess he finally got what was coming to him."

"That seems to be the theme of these deaths."

**

"Ah, finally I have come to Mac Taylor."

"You really thought he was dead didn't you." Adam asked his boss while throwing a glance her way to read the facial tics to make sure that she was telling the truth.

"Yes, I spent night before last in a deep, dark place and trying to catalogue all of my memories of him. I thought that he really was gone. I felt lost."

"How's the trip going?" He assumed that she called him the night before at some point just to make contact.

"I haven't called him. He will be back at the end of next week. I'm picking him up from the airport; I will tell him all about this then. You know as well as I do that if I call Mac while he is on vacation he's going to panic and find a way to come home no matter what I say to reassure him."

Adam's head bounced up and down while he stayed glued to the computer screen. "I just got an e-mail back from the guy who owns the surveillance company. The contract for the job states that under no circumstances is he to give out the username and password. Davis paid extra to ensure multiple levels of confidentially. He says that it would take nothing less than a court order to get him to release the information."

Stella looked at her watch and saw that all city officials would be going home soon and that the chain of command that needed to be used to get the right paper work signed would fall apart. It was also Friday; if she wanted anything to be done she was going to have to be done now or wait until Monday.

"If we are going to get that court order today I have to run. If I don't get there in time or I get denied by a judge I will see you next week. If I do get there on time, I will be calling you in sometime tonight or tomorrow. Call and get a 24-hour emergency number for the company just in case I get this done and its after office hours." In a blink she was gone. Adam hoped to find the answer before his weekend was blown.

**

"We come to our last apartment. This is the residence of one of the many Mac Taylor's that we found in New York City." The building was modest but large. They waited on the owner of the building to let them in. "I wonder how many of you there are in this city." Flack questioned the woman standing and facing him.

"Haven't you figured it out yet babe?" She teased with him and stepped forward to hug him low around the middle. "I'm one of a kind."

"I know that to be true." He kidded with her and kissed her on the forehead before spotting what might the building's owner coming down the sidewalk.

"Detective Flack?"

"Yes, sir."

"Michael Thompson. What can I do for you today?"

"We need to get into the apartment of Mac Taylor."

"Will this be the last time? I would like to get it cleaned out and put up on the market. It should be easier to move because he didn't actually die here."

"The NYPD is still investigating and it will be released when the investigation comes to a close and we don't think we need anything else from it again. I would hate to miss a piece of evidence or something that might solve the case because someone just wanted to make a quick buck." Flack sternly declared before following Mr. Thompson into the building.

"Detective Flack." Angell tried to steer his attention away from the greedy super walking in front of them. "What's the background of the case?"

"He hit and killed a woman with his car and then left the scene. The boyfriend saw the kind of car and somehow figured out that the suspect was named Mac Taylor. He then checked the phone book and found every Mac Taylor and stalked them until he figured out what car they drove. Two people died in the process."

"Wow." The building owner exclaimed. "I didn't know all that. I would not have rented him this space if I'd known."

"Most people don't know the back ground of their renters. There is no box on the application asking past crime history." Angell quipped.

**

Sid opened the last file. All the paperwork was marked 'Justin Wargrave' and looked foreign to him because the forms came from another county. He didn't know where to find information he was looking for. The last sheet in the stack was from the city and he recognized it as the coroner report. He wanted to know the window of death. It was the last one that they needed to finish up the timeline. Sid told Sheldon the time window and the younger man went to the board to fill in the information.

Side read the judge's background. He learned that Wargrave recently sentenced a guy named Seton to prison. The evidence was iffy at best, and he was sent anyway for life. Seton died in a fight soon after arriving. The mastermind behind the ten island deaths must have accused him of killing Seton because even after the trial it was widely thought that he was innocent. In the last three weeks more proof came in that Seton was guilty and the person who planned the island murders was wrong. Justin Wargrave did nothing wrong.

"Wait a minute." Sid called to Hawkes. "This is off. His TOD does not fall at the same time that the journals stated."

"Det. Maine did say something about the witness reports and then coroner's reports being different."

"Oh, they're different alright and it confuses things even more. We have a meeting with everyone upstairs in a few minutes. Let's get this stuff together and head up."

**

In the back of the room, Sid and Hawkes sat patiently and listened as others reported what they thought were significant issues and details about the case. Angell and Flack added all the information they found from the home visits and added colorful side notes about the living habits of the people involved with the case. Lindsay added to what Flack and Angell mentioned with what they found in the old case files. Adam filled in what he could since the person he spent most of the day with was missing and chasing down authorization to demand the username and password from the surveillance company. He was kinda getting worried about the fact that she was not back from the goose chase yet.

Lastly, Danny called out to the end of the table where the two medical investigators sat. "Sid, Sheldon did you find anything new?"

The two men smiled knowingly then silently argued about who was going to share what they knew with hand gestures. Then silent part ended.

"Hawkes, do you want to do the honors?" Sid sugarly and politely asked.

"No, you go ahead."

"It should be you who fills everyone in."

"No, it's your last case, you found the information, and you should be the one."

"You're too kind, but I insist."

They went back and forth. The others got the impression that what the two men had to share was pretty ibg. "Will someone please cut the pleasantries and tell us what you found." Stella announced her arrival from the doorway. Adam look to her and a head shake was what he got letting him know the fast footwork was fruitless.

"The theories of what order they died in is wrong. The eye witness notes have them dying in a certain order and the evidence has them dying in another. The first five are the same in the notes and evidence. The last five is where it gets a little sticky. Zimmer died next, before Wargrave and then the last four died within an hour or two of each other. I can't be sure what order the last four died in. Whoever died last might have planted information in the journals as misdirection."

"Wait." Lindsay went to the timeline on the wall. "Everyone has Wargrave dead on Sunday in the afternoon. You're saying that he was dead on Monday?"

"Afternoon, yes." Hawkes clarified. Lindsay made a note on the timeline of the new information.

"Alright. Go home, let this go until Monday. We will hit this again and maybe have the court order to get the information from the security company." A nod of her head let the people around the table know that the meeting was over. The room emptied out in pairs at first. Having the promise of a Friday night off and a few days of rest from the boss tempted the team so much and that they vacated the building as quickly as possible.

Stella went to her office and fell into the desk chair. She wanted Mac there. She wanted him to sweep into the office and find that one minute piece of evidence that would bring it all together because as Mac always said, everything is connected. She did not have the years or experience yet to see how this all was connected. Mac would come in after his retirement and help work on larger cases that came through the lab on a consultation basis. He would stay around long enough to help solve the case and walk away remembering why he retired. Twelve cases he worked in the three years since he left, most of those twelve cases were in the months just after his retirement. It'd been over a year since he worked with them.

Stella tried to get that focus It would take to dive back into the case but never found what she needed and closed up for the night deciding to take her own advice about shelving the details until Monday.

Five minutes after turning off her office light and leaving she ran back in to grab the notes about the case.

**

Adam stayed around a few more hours after Stella left. It was a personal quest to break the will of the internet site with determination and persistence. He was rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands and trying to keep the sleep away for a little bit longer when he heard his name called.

"Adam." He whipped up a little too fast and made himself dizzy with the movement.

"Whoa there, um…this was delivered a while ago and it was just sitting on your desk. I know that you were working in here and might not get back to it, so I brought it in here to you."

"Yeah…um, thanks." The plain padded envelope was handed over and inspected. Return address was the online retailer that he ordered a book in a fantasy series from. The other man left the room and Adam opened the package expecting the book to slide out, but it felt different. He moved his hand away just in time for a thumb drive to fall onto the table instead of his palm.

A note fell out also: "This should help."

The note was signed Mr. Owen.

Adam pulled a tissue from the box and picked up all the items and carried them to the lab to run every test on them that he knew.

**

It was after midnight when a frustrated sigh escaped him. Nothing showed up on anything, not the thumb drive, not the note, not on any part of the envelope, nothing. With a gloved hand he inserted the thumb drive into the USB port on his desktop machine.

His computer started working so quickly that his brain could not keep up. His eyes blurred. Applications opened, web addresses automatically typed in and loaded. Websites were fished through and the word 'access granted' flashed by.

Adam shot Stella a text and waited for a response.

While he was waiting for the response sixteen new windows opened, tiling the screen. They showed nothing. Adam didn't have a clue, it went so fast on his screen that he couldn't even figure out what website he was at. Adam didn't know what it was about or it tied in with a case. Without closing the smaller windows, he stacked them down at the bottom so he could see what was underneath.

That's when the real shock happened.

He was looking at the security company's inner bowels. The flash drive helped automatically login and access the feeds from the cameras on the islands. In the middle of the screen a new window opened. "Tip of the day: As a user you can fast forwards, rewind, zoom and pause your feed. By hitting the restart button you can go back to when the system came online. You can watch any combination of screens at the same time. For more functions, see the installation book that was left by your installer or click on help at the top of the screen."

He closed the helpful window and repositioned the windows back to where they were. The control bar was shown on top. He hit the button that read 'restart.' The sixteen screens went blank and after about a minute one of them staticked to life. A man could been seen working close to the front of the camera. The camera was moved, the man talked on his phone, and it was moved again. He stepped down from the step ladder that he was standing on and disappeared. The camera showed a clear view of the front porch and the area around it. Slowly more and more cameras became active.

"Whoa."

* * *

_Five days...I have been stuck in my house for five days with my three wonderful children held captive by seven inches of ice and snow. Today was the first day back to school and it felt like a breath of fresh air._

_Please review, even if you didn't like it but especially if you did enjoy it...please._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Stella woke the next morning refreshed and ready for the day. It was the best night sleep she'd gotten in a long time. She debated for a long time if she really wanted to get out of bed. But to spend a day in bed was not like her. With a plan in her head to enjoy the day without thinking of murder, blood, weapons, and evidence she shuffled to the coffee pot and flipped the switch to get it going. It was an older model that needed some sweet talking to get it working. For a long time she considered buying one of those automatic coffee machines that she could program, but that just screamed laziness. Plus she never wanted to be so busy in her life that she couldn't wait on a pot of coffee to brew. That time, the few minutes it took the rich liquid to drip into the pot was her time to lean against the counter and play 'Anywhere But Here' in her brain. She could fantasize about being anywhere in the world other than where she was.

While the coffee dripped she pulled herself together for the day. Her most comfortable pair of jeans and an old team shirt was lazily pulled onto her frame. Out of habit she found her phone to attach to her waist. A glance at it showed a new text from Adam.

"Stella, you have to see this."

Her plans for the day went out the window. The coffee was poured into her travel mug and she was out the door.

**

The conference room atmosphere did not match the frantic state she was in when she entered. The room was quiet and mostly dark. Adam was not in sight. She dialed his number hoping to find out where he was and jumped when his distinctive ring tone sounded from behind her. Adam jolted awake behind the computer in the corner. The impression of his sleeve was stamped into the side of his face. As he jumped up he hit the desk and it was enough to jar the mouse and wake the computer up. Stella saw the projected image at the end of the room come to life. It was the same sixteen framed windows that Adam watched the night before. The action was paused and it clearly showed the house on the island in full sunlight.

"Adam, what was it you wanted to show me?"

"Kendal, all night, cameras, oohhhh bad." He was still half asleep.

Stella waved him off. She did not want to hear anything about Adam's love life with Kendal, and what it had to do with cameras all night or how 'bad' tied into it. "Adam, I'm here, what do you want to show me? As soon as you show me you can get back to Kendal and the cameras."

By the time Stella stopped talking Adam had woken up completely and didn't understand what she was talking about but he tied the clues together and made sense of his babbling. "Kendal's going to be so mad I spent the whole night here because I got into the video feed of the cameras."

"Adam, that's fantastic. You cracked the site."

"Not exactly."

She looked skeptical. "What do you mean 'not exactly'?"

Adam got up and pulled the thumb drive out of the computer. The images of the crime scene disappeared. Stella panicked. He waved her off in the same manner as she did moments ago. "Don't worry, I can make that come back again…I got this yesterday." He held up the small object that looked small enough to be a money clip. "It was delivered to my desk yesterday. I thought it was a book I ordered, but when I opened the envelope a note and thumb drive fell out." Stella looked at Adam handle the items from his explanation with bare hands as he talked and wanted to question him about fingerprints. "I know what you are thinking; I processed everything and found no prints on either the note or the drive and there was no DNA on the flap of the envelope. Whoever sent this must have used a sponge to close it and wore gloves. Anyway I plugged it in and instantly I was looking at the island and its cameras."

"Who was the note from?"

"That's the thing, it's from Mr. Owen." The two shared a look before he went back to his computer.

"Adam, that means Mr. Owen in still alive?" It was definitely more of a confused question that a statement.

He inserted the drive into the port on the side of the computer and what Adam had just explained happened again and they were looking at the house on the island with the morning sun starting to brighten the views. The time stamp showed that what they were looking at was happening right then. The cameras that were inside the house still stayed somewhat dim, but the exterior of the house was shown in all its glory. Adam once again hit the 'restart' button and all the cameras went blank. The panic showed on Stella's face again.

"Whoa back off. I have seen this happen three times now. Just watch." Stella watched the video feeds and Adam watched Stella. She went into amazement much like he did when the first camera came online. She turned to him, mouth hanging wide open.

"We have the whole weekend captured digitally?" She looked at him in awe.

"Digitally and in stereo. It gets a little noisy with sounds from sixteen cameras I bet. But we have the whole weekend and the week leading up to it."

"How far did you watch?" She questioned.

"I fast forwarded up until the Gordon's showed up on Wednesday, from the day and night cycles, the cameras were installed on Monday the fourth. Davis was there on the island with them." He gave the name the smallest bit of emphasis as proof that once again Davis coordinated all of it.

"We need to get everyone back in here and watch this. Sixteen cameras for only two people are overwhelming and we have over a week of footage to watch. Call Kendal and tell her what's going on and that I owe the two of you a night out with babysitting and dinner. I'm going to call the rest back."

"You got it boss-lady."

**

Lindsay stormed into the kitchen where Danny was busy entertaining the kids with his skills flipping pancakes with her phone in her hand. Lindsay stopped her husband and listened to the squeals of laughter that came from her children but it did not curb her bad mood. She had to concentrate on what she was going to say so that she did not utter something the kids might repeat out in public. With teeth gritted she started. "Honey?" Danny looked up and missed the flapjack that was flying in the air and it landed on the floor. "Stella's calling us back in. Something must have come in about the case." He drooped like someone had let air out of him. There went their day off with the kids.

"Are your parents available to take them today?" She already knew the answer but it was polite to at least ask. His parents were always available. She walked away from the kitchen cursing the NYPD for ruining her day. Instead of walking into the master bedroom to get ready she went into the kids' room and started packing a overnight bag. Knowing this case, Stella was going to chain them to the desk. She was surprised they were released so easily the night before with advice to forget about the case until Monday. It didn't look like Stella was doing that. A grunt came out of her and clothes were thrown into the bags not nicely placed.

On the drive from his parents' house into the office her mood just kept getting worse and worse, he had to ask. "Monroe, what's going on?"

"I miss my kids."

"Linds, we just saw them and we will see them tonight."

"I miss seeing them for longer than a couple of hours each day."

"We see them longer than that." His hand took her as a sign of comfort.

"Really? We see them for the few minutes in the morning that it takes to wake them, clothe them, shove something that hopefully is nutritious down their throats for breakfast, and then drop them off wherever they are going to spend their day. After work we see them long enough to get them fed again, get them clean, and into bed after maybe one or two stories. Artie is starting to cruise around the apartment, but we are so busy that I can't take the time to enjoy it and I have to pick him up to move along quickly."

"What do you want to do about it?"

"I don't know."

"Think about it and let me know." He had to let go of her hand to make the sharp turn into the dimly lit parking garage.

It was Saturday, it was beautiful weather, and someone else was taking her kids to the park…again.

**

"Okay, what's so important that you took away a perfectly good weekend off?" A grumpy and very casually dressed, Don Flack stumbled into the room while holding onto Angell from behind and towering a head above her.

"We are going to watch the movie version of our case." Stella answered him smartly.

"Will there be popcorn and Twizzlers?" He laughed pulling a seat out for Angell and then taking the one next to her for himself.

"That's up to you."

When everyone assembled into their seats, Stella explained what happened the night before and Adam filled in the blanks. They were all shown the footage of the first camera coming online. It was the same amount of footage that Stella had seen already and she was ready to get into the real meat and potatoes of the video. A signal was given to Adam and the team around the table watched in awe as cameras came online. The location of each one was announced as it came online: left side of the house outside facing west and north, dining room, foyer, living room, right side of house outside facing east and north. Each camera was marked on the master house plan that was tacked on the wall. It already had the details of who died in what matter with what weapon.

There was a time gap between the time that the camera on the right side of the house came alive and the first camera in an upstairs bedroom flickered on. The cameras caught nothing for a while and then the technicians going up and down the stairs carrying equipment. Terrance Davis walked down the stairs from the second floor and shocked everyone.

"Has he been up there the whole time?" Someone at the table asked. Others who were watching wanted to shush them as if they were in a movie theater but then caught themselves at the last minute.

"Yeah, I guess he was."

"Wonder what he was doing up there the whole time?"

"We may never know."

All of the questions and answers were made without taking eyes off the large screen at the end of the room.

The cameras on the second level of the house started coming online and activity was now taking place on more than one screen at a time. Terrance Davis was working downstairs and the tech was working on the cameras upstairs.

"Someone watch Davis and let us know what he is doing." Danny spoke out.

I've got him." Flack called.

The camera in Taylor's room activated.

"He putting figures on the table in the dining room."

The camera in Dunbrook's room activated.

"He just slipped the recording into a drawer under that old record player."

The camera in Pierpont's room came to life.

"He went out to the porch and got a box of liquor and it stocking pantry, kitchen, and small wet bar in the living room."

The camera in Meyers's room flickered on. Loud pounding was heard from one of the cameras downstairs. "He's hanging pictures in the dining room…It's that Ten Little Indians poem that was found in all the rooms."

"I bet that is what he was doing upstairs while the cameras were being installed on the lower floor." Lindsay looked at all the feeds from the room's where the cameras were active and she saw the poem was hanging in each room. The camera in Redman's room came on and the poem was above the dresser.

"You don't think that Terrance Davis was behind all this, do you?" Flack asked. All the other eyes looked back at him at his end of the table. It was not something that they all considered. "Set up a situation of fear and isolation and hope that something goes wrong."

"Why would he do it? What's his motive?" Angell asked but no one could come up with a feasible answer.

"How would he have gotten all the information about the victim's?" Hawkes asked.

"He was part of the New York crime bottom feeders, I bet word of the crimes and the details traveled. Once he picked who he wanted to play with it just took asking the right questions to the right people to get any information that he wanted." Adam pressed pause so that nothing was missed and listened intently. "He could have been the third party. He just played up that there was someone else to keep all eyes off of him when it all came down."

"He died even before anything on the island took place. He was found dead on Friday morning before any of the guests went out to the island. If it didn't go the way he planned, what was he going to do if he was dead?" The thought was pondered and then Stella gave Adam the go ahead to start the action back up again.

The camera in Truby's room flickered to life almost unnoticed because everyone was watching Davis. The watched him disappear into the kitchen and pantry where there was no coverage.

The camera in Zimmer's room activated.

Davis reemerged again from the unknown and went back out on the porch. He pulled a paper from his pocket and studied it. "Adam, you said this can zoom and pause right?" The younger man's head dipped. "Is he at an angle where we can get a good look at that paper?"

The next few minutes were spent watching Adam try to zoom in but the angle were all wrong.

"Sorry." He looked away from the monitor that was taking all his attention to the group. "Was it found in his apartment?"

"There was a lot of paper in that place. Didn't know what to look for. We can go back and look again." Angell answered.

"What do you mean 'we'?" Flack questioned.

"If I am going, then you are going." She busted his chops.

It was an ongoing thing with them to mess around like that. He defied little against comments she made just get a reaction out of her. It was often wondered why they didn't just go ahead and get married. Danny really rode him about it after he himself married Lindsay and then again after she was shot and Danny hoped that the whole 'life is short' would kick in. The conversation was always headed off with "can't find the right ring," "the church was busy the weekend we wanted it," "she told me no when I asked." Each was an empty excuse and they were happy not being married.

"Looks like I am going back to Davis's apartment later." He smiled back at his girlfriend with a twinkle in his eye. Even after all the years between them he still loved her like the first day.

"Hey, Wargrave's camera just came up and it doesn't show the whole room. It's not even in the same place as all the cameras. Every other room the camera is in the far corner." Sid noticed.

"Wargrave's room was smaller and shaped differently because the back stairs are in the corner hall behind his room. They led down to the Gordon's room and linen closet then to the pantry and kitchen." Stella showed the configuration on the floor plan.

All the cameras were now online. All the poems were hanging, the figures were on the table, and the record was in place. All that was missing was the ten people. Davis and then techs met back on the front porch. A large envelope was handed over to the two men who had labored on the island for hours. It was assumed by all that it was some form of payment for the job.

The front door was locked the men walked away from the house and off camera.

"Okay, from what I understand the Gordon's show up in two days. We're gonna fast forward through the next 36 hours. We're gonna do this in shifts of two people watching. Go get lunch or something to snack on. Angell and Flack hit Davis's home again and see what paper work might be there. This is going to be long and tedious. I'm going to tell Larson and Maine to meet us back here on Monday. We will start watching the feed from Friday, August 8th."

**

They took turns in pairs to watch the video. Names were drawn from a hat to set the schedule. Danny quietly told Lindsay that he would take her shift so she could spend time with the kids.

It was predictable, but nothing happened between the time that the surveillance team left and the Gordon's arrived. The wind blew and birds flew. Leaves visited the front porch to take a rest out of the wind before they were drifted off again to another part of the island. During his boring time watching, Hawkes kept a count using tally marks of how many birds landed on the front porch. Nothing changed in the house. There was nothing there to change it, but they wanted to watch just in case there was another visitor.

The Gordon's showed up bring and early on Wednesday. A grocer followed along with a dolly full of food. The Gordon's and grocer let themselves into a house and set straight to work. The sounds of food being stacked in place could be heard on the camera that covered the dining room. The Gordon's traveled from room to room inspecting each room, each inch, and every space. The grocer left.

Somehow Flack and Danny were the two watching when the first night set in. Linda and Jerry decided to go wild and have sex all over the house. Because they were watching it in fast forward and at double the pace it took two or three glances to see what they doing and then the disgusted groans escaped their lips. They really did not want to watch, but morbid sick male curiosity kicked in and they peeked from between their fingers. Quickly the sounds changed from groans to hoots and howls of laughter as they watched the couple jack rabbit from window to window, camera to camera while having sex. The peals of laughter carried to Stella's office and she had to go see what the noise was all about. Soon she too was laughing at what Danny and Flack were seeing.

Thursday dawned on video and Jerry and Linda got busy preparing the house for the guests. They left the house mid afternoon to meet the boat at the dock. News and mail intended for them would be delivered along with fresh supplies that were needed. While thumbing through what he was given, he found a letter from the island's owner.

"That's the note describing who needs to have what room and also that the host will be delayed until Saturday." Stella told Angell during their viewing time.

"Where was he supposed to sleep? There wasn't a room for him."

"I never thought about that." Stella told her viewing partner. "Was there anything in the attic that might have doubled as a bedroom?" From her seat she twisted around to check the almost memorized diagram of the house.

"No."

"There's proof that whoever did this never meant to show up. Maybe that's another indication that Davis could be the one behind this."

Sunday afternoon in real time saw the afternoon of August 8th starting to arrive on video. "Adam pause it right there. We're ready for tomorrow. I'll see you bright and early in the morning." The video was halted. She looked around at the screens and marveled at how peaceful it all looked. It was hard to imagine what might have happened for ten people to be found dead just days later. Stella and Adam left the room, the lights were turned off and the door was locked. The secrets would be frozen until the morning.

It was a little nerve racking to just walk away. Stella looked at the locked door and knew how easy it would be to unlock it and start watching on her own or even to fast forward through all those hours of footage to see who was left standing at the end. She was anxious to start the mystery and watch as the events happened. Would it go anything like the journal entries listed? Sleep would not be her friend that night. She wasn't even going to try and go home. Other cases and issues needed her attention. There were papers that needed to be signed, overtime to authorize (mostly for those who were working on the North Brother Island case), and purchase orders need to be put thru. All those hours that she thought that Mac was sitting in his office and stewing over a case were really spent in paper work hell.

After an hour, she went for a cup of coffee. As it spun in the microwave she imagined the Greece sun warming her skin while she flitted in and out shops in a small town far away from the modern noisy city. Long walks down narrow streets with no cars or honking horns. Everyone around her was open and friendly. She was lighter and care free. The timer on the microwave beeped and Greece was gone. Machines whirred and people hustled even at the late hour. The heaviness of her life invaded her body and it was time to get back to work.

* * *

_Wednesday was my birthday so I took a few days off and ignored writing for a while. This was a long chapter and I apologize but there did not seem to be a good place to break it up. Enjoy._


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